36 M: The Burning Giraffe Cafe

“6:36 P.M. The Burning Giraffe Café”, read the note. It was laying on my painting desk when I got home from my day job, tuna fishing. Very peculiar, I thought, how could anyone get into my house without freezing time or stealing my key? I figured if they were that powerful, I better go to the café. So there I was at the Burning Giraffe, five minutes early. Of course with my unknown fate I can’t help but check my watch every five seconds. 6:36, where is he? I look down at my watch one more time to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, only to see my watch melting away. What was going on? Tapping it wasn’t helping, neither was trying to take it off. I look up in frustration only to see a man the world told me was dead, Salvador Dali. “Have a coffee,”
Everything around me faded away, turning to dust. I saw melting clocks all around, elephants turning to swans, Jesus on the cross, and several animals and bodily forms walking all around me. A large spider approached us, bringing lobster on a dish. “How did you get here, I thought you were dead” I exclaimed, louder than intended. “Is that what they call it?” Dali responded while tinkering with my watch, making it even more skewed. He continued, “Time and death are simply just your conscious telling you that you cannot make an impact in this world”. I took a bite of lobster to help think, avoiding an awkward quick response. With motions from his hands, Dali seemed to transform the views of crazy objects into different ones, ending with them being quite far away from us as we found ourselves sitting in the caboose of a train. A question came to mind, one I had always wondered when viewing his work. “Where did your inspiration come from?” He chuckled, his facial features turning to bacon. “Remember when you were a young child? The world was brand new, and everything you saw was so magnificent and extraordinary? Don’t just remember it, re-live it every time you create.” His eyes filled with fire as